"I just couldn't resist."
"Only sacred things deserve to be messed with."
It all ended with a dead kid near the train tracks.
Six years later, the story repeats itself and two long-forgotten friends might find out that when death tries to play match...
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It's dark and cold in the kitchen, the low buzzing of the fridge the only sound as I stand at the counter. I'm trying the best I can to wash my hair in the sink, but my hair is so long, I just manage to tangle it more and more as my fingers work on the long red strands, my neck starting to cramp in this uncomfortable position.
"For fucks sake!" I let out, then jump in surprise when I hear a low chuckle behind me.
I twist my neck further, narrowing my eyes to make out the shadow that is Kim Taehyung as he leans against the doorframe. In the darkness, his wet hair looks black, strands of ink melting in the obscurity surrounding him.
A car passes by outside, orange headlights suddenly invading the kitchen with the sound of an old creaky radio. It draws moving patterns on the boy's face, letting me see a snippet of his chiseled face before it's gone and all I see is a dark figure wearing my dad's sweatpants and hoodie.
"You need some help?" he asks, devilish in the way he approaches.
"No. I'm fine," I say, teeth gritted as I go back to my task.
Shampoo leaks into my eyes, and I hiss as I try to wipe it off with the back of my hand.
"Come on," Taehyung says, "Let me help. It's the least I can do."
His voice is calm and low; gravel-like. I feel the heat of his body settling behind mine as he takes over my hands, the weight of my drenched hair suddenly leaving my palms.
"Alright," I finally cave-in.
He's a lot more gentle than I thought he would be, going deliberately slow like he's finding some kind of pleasure in the act of running his fingers through my hair. His thumbs dig in my scalp as he massages my skull, getting the last traces of mud out of my roots. He applies just the right amount of pressure to make goosebumps line up my arms, and I can't help a helpless sigh when his fingertips reach my temples.
"You're good at this," I tell him in a whisper, and he suddenly presses a little harder.
"Thank you."
I can hear another car coming by and I open my eyes, just in time to see my own reflection in the window before me, as well as Taehyung's. He looks focused, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes meet mine through the glass for a second before the headlights disappear in the distance and darkness claims my sight.
"Turn around," he tells me and I do as he says, bending my body awkwardly to keep my head at the sink level.
"Is that too hot?" he asks, checking the water temperature on his hand first before making it run through my hair.
"It's perfect."
Again, it takes a moment for him to rinse the bubbles away, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers.
